


Now He's Gone, I Don't Know Why

by citizenjess (givehimonemore)



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Beach Divorce, Chess, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-02
Updated: 2012-01-02
Packaged: 2017-10-28 17:40:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/310419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/givehimonemore/pseuds/citizenjess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"He's left enough of her in-tact for her to know who he is; enough for her to be angry or wistful that they've parted ways."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Now He's Gone, I Don't Know Why

**Author's Note:**

> Written with firstclass100's "Haunt" prompt (#13) in mind. Erik/Charles, implied Charles/Moira. Title comes from Nancy Sinatra's "Bang, Bang, My Baby Shot Me Down".

1.

He sees her, just once, by the window in an eatery just outside the capital (he's there to hear the latest mutant registration buzz, the first of many attempts to control them), head propped on her hand. He's left enough of her in-tact for her to know who he is; enough for her to be angry or wistful that they've parted ways. He hasn't left her with the knowledge that he's in the chair, or that she helped to put him in it.

He leaves without saying hello or goodbye. Moira looks up suddenly, brain prickling, then blinks and shrugs.

2.

Erik – Magneto, now – is in Washington, too. He knows exactly what role he played in putting Charles in the chair.

"The entire system needs to be gutted from the top down. Officials. That MacTaggert woman," Erik rants, eyes flashing, and then they narrow suspiciously when Charles cuts in.

"There's no need to harm Moira. She isn't any sort of threat, now. She doesn't remember anything."

Erik's face grows impassive, thoughtful. "Well," he says softly, mouth quirking, "so much for that lofty moral code of yours."

"I did what I had to do," Charles replies, and Erik just snorts.

3.

Charles' hotel room has an extra bed. They set up his chess board on a square table and try to pretend that nothing is at stake. Erik ruins it by bringing up Moira again: "You do what Charles Xavier wants to do. That's no different than anyone else in this world."

"It's very different. I was trying to minimize the damage. She's safer like this." Petulantly, he adds, "It's never just about what I want."

"Ever the fucking martyr, Charles." Erik points out the window. "You could minimize countless damages to mutantkind. But you don't want to. Checkmate."

4.

The alcohol is a bad idea from its inception. "You made me leave," Erik accuses, and Charles nearly chokes.

"You're serious? It had nothing to do with you deciding that mass murder was an option. It was all my fault."

"You didn't believe in me anymore." Erik crosses his arms stubbornly.

Charles gapes. "Do you even believe in you anymore, Erik?"

"Don't put this back on me, Charles." He looms, now. "You said you didn't want me anymore. I had to go."

Charles smiles sadly. "Oh, my friend. You left me the moment you put on that helmet, I'm afraid."

5.

Erik's grip on his arms is too tight; his fingers bite into Charles' flesh, leaving bruises to go with the scars on his back, his broken heart. His eye catches on the numbers emblazoned on Erik's arm; ludicrously, he thinks that now, at least, they're a perfectly matched, perfectly damaged set.

The sex hurts; it's several firsts wrapped into a moment that's over too quickly, yet at the same time, seems to take forever. Erik spoons against him, and it's a little too close; then he puts the helmet back on, and he's Magneto again, and so very far away.


End file.
